


The First Anniversary

by Perpetual Motion (perpetfic)



Series: Sir and Sweetheart [13]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Collars, Dom/sub, Gift Giving, Lingerie, M/M, brief mentions of doms who were a bad fit, mike dodds wears lingerie because he likes to feel elegent, no past abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:35:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22257283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perpetfic/pseuds/Perpetual%20Motion
Summary: A look at Rafael and Mike's first anniversary. Well, a particular first anniversary.
Relationships: Rafael Barba/Mike Dodds
Series: Sir and Sweetheart [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1602163
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	The First Anniversary

Rafael lets himself into his apartment with a smile on his face. He's made it home before six, and he can smell the roast he and Mike had prepped that morning before work. Mike had had the day off--a rarity only made more impressive by the fact that it just happened to fall on their one-year anniversary. 

Not the one-year anniversary they'd celebrated four months ago at Forlini's with the squad and Rita. This one is different. It's the anniversary of Rafael taking a chance on Mike and Mike taking a chance on him and finding out that becoming Sir and Sweetheart to each other was exactly what they both needed. 

Rafael closes the door behind him and puts his briefcase on the floor under the coat rack. He can't see Mike, but he can hear some movement in the bedroom. It's a quiet _click-clack_ that makes him feel like the most powerful man in the world because it means Mike is wearing something he loves. 

"I'm home," Rafael calls out as he takes off his coat and hangs it up. He peels off his suit jacket next, carrying it in one hand as he works his tie loose with the other. He walks down the hall as he undoes the top button of his shirt and feels his smile widen at the sight of Mike in the bedroom. He's laying out Rafael's favorite pajamas--silk, deep blue with a lavender pinstripe, and at the sight of Rafael, he beams. 

"Good evening, Sir," Mike says. He turns and picks up a tumbler of Scotch from the dresser. "I have your drink."

"Thank you, Sweetheart," Rafael replies. He takes a sip as Mike plucks his jacket from his hand and walks over to hang it on the small valet in the far corner of the room. The _click-clack_ of his kitten heels makes Rafael look down to enjoy the view from the ground up. 

Mike's wearing black mules with faux-marabou fur on the toes. He's also wearing black silk tap pants trimmed in lace and a black silk camisole that dips low on his back. The lace on the tap pants makes it impossible to be unaware of the width and muscle of his thighs. The low back on the camisole displays the power of his back and shoulders. But it's the dressing gown that really makes everything sing. It's black as well, but sheer with the same faux-marabou fur trimming the sleeves, the hem, and the entire length of the robe from the bottom edge, around the neck, and down again. The silk tie that closes it is hanging loose, which makes the gown billow as Mike moves. The sheer fabric skims back and forth and accentuates the sheer largeness of his torso. 

"You're spoiling me with beauty, Sweetheart," Rafael says when Mike turns back to face him. 

Mike looks quietly pleased and steps over to finish unknotting Rafael's tie. He smooths it through his hands, then drapes it around his own neck to work on Rafael's vest. "I'm glad you like it," he says. 

"I'm glad you trust me to see you so comfortable," Rafael replies. 

*

On their third date, they were half a block from Mike's place when a summer shower suddenly unloaded. Mike had was still in the early days of recovery for his gut wound, and he wasn't able to move faster than a sedate walk. Rafael didn't even think of dashing ahead. He simply kept pace with Mike and shrugged when Mike worried about his suit. 

"It's linen. It dries fast," Rafael had assured him.

Mike insisted Rafael come upstairs and dry off and to strip out of his sodden suit and into pajamas. "I know enough not to ask if your suit can go in the dryer, but I've got a box fan we can set up to blow on it if we hang it in the bathroom."

Rafael agreed--as much to have a reason to spend more time with Mike than anything else. As they stood dripping in the elevator, Mike wilted but tried to hide it. But Rafael caught it and felt that tug low in his gut that made him want to hold Mike close and make promises to always take care of him. He considered how to tell Mike he could tell he'd just run out of energy, and that it was okay. He followed his gut instinct and decided asking questions was the wrong way to help. 

"When we get in, I can get the clothes. Just tell me where they are."

Mike looked at him, embarrassment in his eyes. "Am I that obvious?"

"You're that injured," Rafael replied. "You took a shot to the gut and had major surgery. You don't bounce back from that quickly."

Mike sighed and rubbed a hand through his hair as the elevator opened on his floor. "I know," he muttered, more to himself than to Rafael.

"It must be difficult to have to go so slow," Rafael said. "You're so active when you haven't been recently shot."

Mike huffed a laugh and gave Rafael a small, thankful smile. "How did you know phrasing it that way would help? About getting the clothes because I'm tired."

Rafael shrugged, ignoring the pull in his gut at a sudden mental image of Mike giving him that same thankful smile as Rafael gave him what he needed in different circumstances. "I figured you're used to orders, not questions. I just took the question mark off the end of my offer."

"I am used to orders," Mike said quietly as he unlocked his door and then stepped aside so Rafael could go in first. 

Rafael stepped inside and immediately shed his jacket and shoes. "Where's the dry clothes?" he asked.

"Bedroom. Straight back. Pajamas are in the top drawer. Anything you grab me will be fine." 

"Okay. Meet you in the bathroom?"

"Sure."

Rafael walked down the hall and into the bedroom, focusing on the dresser in the corner rather than taking too much time to contemplate the bed. Mike was still recovering. No sex until his stitches came out at the very least. 

Rafael opened the top drawer of the dresser and grabbed two pairs of cotton sleep pants and two T-shirts, then walked to the bathroom and dropped them all on the closed toilet lid. Mike was naked from the waist up, a towel around his waist. His drenched clothes were piled in the tub. "It is unfair I'm seeing you this close to naked when I can't do anything about it," Rafael said. 

Mike laughed lightly and turned towards the dry clothes. "Well, it'll be unfair to see you naked in a minute for the same reason." He grabbed for one of the pairs of cotton pants and tugged to get them free from the bottom of the pile. Everything else on the pile slid to one side. 

And then a short, black corset fell to the floor.

Mike froze. Eyes going huge as he stared at the corset. 

Rafael didn't think twice. He knew Mike couldn't bend from the waist, and crouching was out of the question as well. So, he bent down and picked it up himself, folding it in half and placing it on the top of the toilet tank. 

"I--" Mike started, then stopped. 

Rafael let his instinct take the lead again. He started undressing. "Can you reach the shower rod okay?" He asked, holding his suit jacket in both hands. 

"Um. Yeah. Yeah.. It doesn't pull anything," Mike replied, taking the jacket and draping it over the shower rod. Before he could do more than glance at the corset again, Rafael handed him his slacks, and then his shirt. Mike hung up each piece carefully, making sure to spread them out so they wouldn't wrinkle. 

Rafael quickly scrubbed his hair dry, then wrapped the towel around his hips. "Where's the fan?"

"Hall closet," Mike said. He was smoothing out a non-existent wrinkle in Rafael's shirt, his back facing Rafael. 

Rafael went to the hall closet and found the fan. He carried it back into the bathroom and balanced it precariously on the sink before plugging it in. He turned it on, then turned to face Mike. 

Mike was standing by the toilet tank. The cotton sleep pants had been dropped to the floor, and he was clenching his hand hard on the corset, looking desperately like he had a place to hide it. 

"You're going to snap the stays," Rafael said without thinking. 

Mike blinked at him. "What?"

Rafael stepped forward--still running on instinct. He took the corset from Mike's hand and spread it out to inspect the boning. "The stays are plastic, right?"

Mike didn't answer for a long, tense moment. "Yeah," he finally said, though it was more a breath than a word. "It's...um...someone else bought it for me. A former...someone I used to sleep with."

Rafael's gut pulled again. He felt like he was balancing on a three-legged stool while someone sawed off one of the legs. "So, this isn't your usual style for a corset?"

Mike was silent for another long moment, but Rafael felt some of the tension leave the room. "No," Mike said, his voice coming back to him. "I don't like the shorter ones. I prefer the full style, you know? With the bust and everything."

Rafael looked up from the corset and met Mike's gaze. He looked nervous but no longer like he'd been caught doing something wrong. "I've always been partial to that look," he said. "I don't wear them, but a man in a corset is very appealing."

Mike stared at Rafael. "Really? You think so?"

"I do," Rafael replied. "Especially for someone your size and personality."

"My personality?" Mike asked, looking skeptical. 

"You're confident in your masculinity and you're in ridiculous shape. Put those two together, and I am instantly a fan," Rafael said. "If you ever want to show me your preferred style, I'd love to see it."

"Um. Okay. Yeah. I mean." Mike broke off, and a disbelieving but very genuine smile took over his face. "Really?"

"Yes. Really."

"Do you...um...my former...the guy I used to sleep with. He really only liked to see me in them if we were doing certain types of roleplay."

"I don't need that," Rafael said. He took and breath and decided to take a chance. "I think I could do what you're talking about, if you wanted to do it, but I don't need it."

"I didn't really like the roleplay aspect," Mike replied, his confidence coming back up as he realized Rafael really wasn't taken aback by the corset. "I just like wearing them to...wear them."

"If you ever want a very interested audience, just say the word."

*

Mike gets Rafael's shirt open and splays his hands across Rafael's rib cage, effectively pulling him out of his memory. "What were you thinking about, Sir?" Mike asks as he trails his fingers down to Rafael's waist and starts to open his belt. 

"I was remembering our third date," Rafael replies, and he smiles when Mike flashes him a quick, sweet look. "It rained."

"I remember. Your suit was linen."

"It was."

Mike pulls Rafael's belt through the loops, then coils it over his hand. "That cheap corset Davin got me fell out on the floor."

"It did," Rafael says. He watches the way Mike turns to place the belt in its designated spot in the dresser. He's brimming with quiet confidence and ease. There's absolutely no fear that Rafael will tell him liking to feel delicate and beautiful is something that can only be done if they're playing a game. He's not worried that Rafael will think his wanting to try other things--panties, camisoles, teddies--makes him less of a man. 

"You know," Rafael says as he sits on the bed so Mike can remove his shoes, "if you really wanted to spoil me for this anniversary, you'd let me meet Davin."

Mike, kneeling at Rafael's feet, throws back his head and laughs. Rafael touches the underside of Mike's chin and holds him in place so he can kiss the last of the laugh from his mouth. He loves that Mike shifts in and out of submission the same way he loves that Mike trusts him enough to wear beautiful, delicate underwear around him. Mike's told him everything about Davin and his other attempts at finding a Dom. It's a series of similar stories: They were all perfectly acceptable on paper. They respected boundaries. They provided good aftercare. They were kind to Mike in most of the ways he needed and genuinely enjoyed having him as a sub. 

But none of them had understood that Mike breaking out of his submissive role because he's so happy doesn't make him a bad sub. They hadn't understood that Mike liking corsets and wanting to branch out from there didn't make him interested in degrading play. They'd looked at Rafael's kind, open-hearted, giving Sweetheart and missed everything that made him perfect. 

"I love you," Rafael says, pressing another kiss to Mike's lips. "I love every single part of you. And I love seeing how confident you are to show it all to me."

"Thank you, Sir," Mike replies. He lays Rafael's shoes side-by-side then presses at Rafael's knees so he can slide between them. He tips his head up for another kiss, and Rafael gives it to him gladly. 

They kiss for a few minutes. Soft, slow, warm kisses. Rafael rubs his thumb over one of the straps of Mike's camisole, and Mike kneads softly at his thighs. There's a sudden buzz from the kitchen that makes Rafael start and look at Mike. "What the hell?"

"Shit," Mike says with an annoyed grimace. "I forgot about the cake."

"Cake?"

Mike laughs at Rafael's expression. "Sonny dropped it by. Well, he dropped the ingredients by. I mixed them and stuck them in the oven. It's chocolate raspberry cake. Apparently, it's the Carisi-family standard for anniversary dinners."

"That was nice of him," Rafael says as he stands and helps Mike to his feet. "Go take care of it. I'll get my pajamas on and meet you in the kitchen."

"Okay." Mike steals one last kiss, then walks out of the bedroom, the soft _click-clack_ of his shoes making Rafael feel warm all over. 

He changes into his pajamas and grabs his drink on his way out of the bedroom. Mike's in the kitchen, his dressing gown draped over the armchair in the living room so he can reach into the oven for the cake. It's slightly lopsided, and Rafael smiles at it. "That looks amazing."

"Should be cool enough to eat after dinner," Mike says as he lifts the lid of the crock pot to check the roast. "The roast is almost falling apart," he says to Rafael. "Should be perfect in another ten minutes."

"Well, I may have a way to pass the time," Rafael says, placing his tumbler on the counter. He walks over to his briefcase and takes out a blue box with a white ribbon. He holds it out to Mike, who's staring at it in shock. 

"That is not--" Mike shakes his head and walks over to Rafael. He takes the blue box, tracing his fingers over the letters, then looking at Rafael. "Tiffany's?" He sounds amazed. 

"You deserve the best," Rafael replies, lifting a hand to wrap it around the back of Mike's neck. "Open it," he says quietly, excitement running up his spine.

Mike gives Rafael a wide, fond smile and pulls the bow apart. He tangles it in his fingers as he opens the box. He stares at his gift for a long, awed moment, then looks at Rafael, his eyes shining. "Is this what I think it is?"

Rafael nods, looking away from Mike's happy face to take the bracelet from the box. It's black braided leather with silver clasps. Rafael takes his hand off Mike's neck so he can hold the bracelet in both hands. "You can't wear a proper collar every day, as much as you know I'd love to give that to you."

"I do know that," Mike says. He reaches out and traces a finger over the braid. "Oh, it's soft."

"I thought so, too," Rafael says, undoing the clasp. "And I thought, perhaps, you'd like this bracelet as a stand-in. It can mean everything the collar would, but you can wear it all the time."

"I love it," Mike says, holding out his arm so Rafael can fit the bracelet over his wrist. "It's beautiful."

Rafael turns over Mike's wrist after the bracelet is on and kisses his palm. "You deserve beautiful things."

Mike ducks down and kisses Rafael on the mouth, one hand tangling in his pajama top for a moment. "Stay here?" he asks against Rafael's mouth. "I want to get your present."

"Okay," Rafael agrees. He stays put, rocking back on his heels as he listens to Mike rustle around in the bedroom. When Mike walks back down the hall, he's carrying a small box wrapped in silver paper. 

"It's not Tiffany's," Mike says, with a grin, "but I hope you'll understand why it's important."

Rather than answer, Rafael undoes the paper and tips the package sideways so the unwrapped box slips into his hand. It's a matte black box, and Rafael takes a moment to enjoy the suspense before he lifts the lid. 

"Mike," he breathes out in surprise. He has to blink back tears as he lifts the necklace out of the box. It's one of Mike's dog tags on a thin, silver chain. Mike generally keeps his dog tags in a small box in the front closet at his apartment. The box also holds his service medals and some photographs of men he served with. 

"I haven't known what to do with them since I left the military," Mike says. "I've told you about that."

"You have."

"I don't want to wear them anymore, but keeping them in that box never felt right. And then, I sort of had this idea that maybe you'd like to have one. Just, a piece of me no one else really has, you know?"

"This is wonderful," Rafael says. He puddles the chain in his palm so he can read the dog tag. "Mike, thank you."

"You're welcome," Mike replies. He holds out his hand. "Can I see it on you?"

"Of course." Rafael lets Mike pluck the necklace from his palm and turns so Mike can slip it around his neck. The chain is short; the dog tag lands just under Rafael's collarbone. It'll stay in place under his clothes without a problem. 

Mike walks around Rafael to look at how it hangs. The smile on his face radiates through his whole body. His fingers are warm when he strokes down the medal and then onto Rafael's pajama top. "It looks exactly like I thought it would."

"Sweetheart, I don't have words for this," Rafael says. He chuckles at Mike's faux-shocked look.k "I'm as surprised as you are. Just know that I know what it means to have this," he touches the tag, feeling the shape of Mike's name with two fingers. "And what it means to have you. I love you, Mike."

Mike reaches down and takes Rafael's hand, squeezing hard. "I love you, too, Rafael."

Rafael steps on his toes and tilts up his chin. "Happy Anniversary," he says as Mike leans in to kiss him. "I can't wait until next year."

Mike kisses him, then pulls away. "Me, either," he says, then kisses him again.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm never not gonna love them, okay.


End file.
